Catservation

Poor Coal, our slow but well intended adoptive cat was being mightily harassed by Auggie.

He had her pinned down in the Virginia Creeper brambles meer feet from the safety of the back door. I headed over to rescue her and as I removed the Corgi she bolted but was yoked by the Creeper.

She ran in a circle, tethered but eventually the vine gave way but she hauled a length of it along with her.

I felt bad for laughing. She's differently abled but she's a sweetheart.

Virginia Creeper yoke

The oppressor of kittehs, Auggie.

Seriously Dude?

Was doing a bit of household cleanup today. To facilitate this if rolled both the recycling and trash cans into the back yard.

Young Master Auggie has rarely been so agitated...

These monsters have invaded his land and demand he be on point to protect us.

Initially, he was so put off he refused to walk past them even to come inside. I had to sequester the bins somewhat out of sight around the side of the house.

He found them again; just after he'd calmed down. It starts again.

*bark, bark, chuff, snort, bark, bark intensifies, chuff, snort, bark*

Waste Management, I'll be calling about a possible credit for Corgi trauma.

Slimed 

SOL: the laser pointer for Corgis

Corgi observation

The sun is still fairly low in the sky and it's been dancing off a glass mobile we've hanging in the window. The side effect of this is that it's sending bright reflections in little chaseable spots around the floor; driving Auggie crazy with chase.

Admittedly, he's already got a screw loose but he appears all the more off chasing these SOL sprites as they dart about the room.

Dogservations: Well, This is new.

The alarm is set for 550hrs on workdays. Not often I wake for whatever reason; to heed the call of nature, that weird bump in the night, or a couple weekends back, a bonafide psychotic lighting off cherry bombs a block away.

But this morning, it was a four month old, twenty pound Corgi that had curled up around my head on my pillow, blissfully licking my head. This is new. This would be, ordinarily endearing BUT at 500hrs BEFORE my digital attendant is set to wake me, it is maddening.

"Auggie, W.T.H. are you doing?" I ask, fully three quarters groggy.

Auggie replies by pausing his licking and just pressing his nose into my cheek "Nothing" I interpret.

So, I reach up and shag his noggin and admonish him "Go to sleep, fuzzy. It ain't time yet." My hand wanders to my forelocks where I feel a full quarter of my head is wet with dog spit and cowlicked.

Whelp, that'll be fun to warsh out. Serendipitously, my hair has never looked so healthy.